


Re_Birth

by megaotaku98



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, MinChan rise bitch, Reincarnation AU, angst with happy ending, but it DOES END HAPPY THERES A 6TH LIFE WHICH IS MODERN DAY, but like happily ambiguous, its like a 5+1 but it's fucking sad, they both die, tw/blood mention, tw/getting beaten to death, tw/homophobia, tw/suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megaotaku98/pseuds/megaotaku98
Summary: Across five lifetimes, Chan meets Minho and they fall in love.Across five lifetimes, their lives together end in horrible tragedy.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 20
Kudos: 130





	Re_Birth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vinia0505](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinia0505/gifts).



> Hello hello hello!!  
> So I want to thank Lavi real quick for tweeting the idea that this came out of!!! It was really fun to write and I look forward to writing more ideas that you think of UwU  
> Also, big BIG trigger warning for suicide, and I just want to add this: please do NOT base the value of your life on someone else. What Chan does in the third lifetime is fictional and dramatized, and should not be glorified whatsoever.  
> Third, the title is from a vocaloid song because I'm a weeb at my core.  
> Finally, some terminology explanation:  
> Consumption- The old term that was used for Tuberculosis, a disease that most of you should know; it's killed so many people throughout history. It was called by this term because of the weight loss that was a common symptom of the disease.  
> Wonchung- "male lover", notable usage of this term was with King Mokjong and King Gongmin of Goryeo kingdom, who both are on record of having male lovers that they kept in their courts.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Chan lived a good life, or at least he thought so. 

He made a comfortable living selling his pottery, everyone in the village bought his ceramics. He spent every day in the market, and every night making new jugs and plates and bowls.

In the fall, he started seeing a newer face in the market. Although not an unfamiliar face- it was farmer Lee's son, Minho, selling rice and wheat. Chan remembered playing in the fields with him as a child, he was a bright and kind boy. His brightness seemed to only get stronger as he grew up, that smile of his was so charming and captivating. Captivating to Chan, that is; he couldn't look away. He got so distracted he didn't realize there were three customers waiting to buy things, until old man Park cleared his throat and Chan snapped back to reality.

Chan approached Minho the next day, starting a conversation with a simple "hey, remember me?" They spent the whole afternoon catching up, talking about old stories and reminiscing in their childhood nostalgia.

As the days passed they spent more and more time together. Eventually, Chan realized he was falling for Minho. But how could he not? With his sweet smile, and his infectious laugh, and his charming personality.

It would seem that Minho had fallen for Chan too, something that became evident when Minho kissed him by the river one evening. Chan kissed back, pulling him close as they fell back onto the grass.

Over time, they built a life together. Chan moved into Minho's family home, moving his pottery business with him. They spent years, decades, at each other's sides. They were truly in love, and together they were truly happy.

And then there was a breakout of consumption. No one knew where it came from, but the village all fell under its curse, and people started to succumb one after another.

Minho and Chan did their best to help provide more food to those who were sickly, in hopes that maybe someone would recover.

When Minho started coughing, Chan started to get worried. Minho insisted he was fine, he just needed more rest, it would pass. 

Then the fatigue came, he was always tired no matter how much he slept. His appetite started to disappear as well, and the coughing only got worse.

When Minho coughed up blood, Chan's own blood ran cold. He knew Minho's fate was sealed- he'd caught the sickness. 

From that point Minho's symptoms only worsened; his appetite was gone, he constantly alternated between having a fever and having the chills, he lost an alarming amount of weight, and he soon became bedridden. Chan did his best to take care of his partner, but after a few months he started to show symptoms as well; starting with tiredness and a tickle of the throat, but soon Chan too was coughing up blood.

Four months passed, and Minho succumbed to the disease. Chan watched him wither away, while his own symptoms worsened. His lover died in their shared bed, Chan holding his hand and tenderly kissing his knuckles as they shared their final goodbyes.

"This isn't the end, love," Minho said, his voice so weak it was barely above a whisper, "I'll see you again in the next life. We'll be together again. I'll wait for you."

"Okay," Chan responded, swallowing the lump in his throat as tears slipped down his face, "wait for me, Minho. I'll see you soon."

Minho smiled, and then his eyes fluttered shut and he stopped breathing. 

Chan buried Minho out in the field, and grieved quietly, trying to fight the consumption at the same time. He kept going for another six months, before the disease took him too.

As he lay in bed dying, the village doctor next to him, he spoke his own last words.

"I'm on my way, love. I can't wait to see you again."

  
  


~

  
  


Life in the capital city wasn't anything special when you lived in the working class. Chan knew this first hand. Every day he and his father worked hard to ensure the family would be able to eat. All while the royal palace loomed in the distance, almost mocking them in their poverty.

One day prince Minho was visiting, or at least that's what all the local gossip was claiming. As Chan headed out to the marketplace, he saw a group of official looking people in upper class clothing. In the middle of the group was the most beautiful man- no, the most beautiful _person_ Chan had ever seen. His raw beauty was like no other; magnificent, ethereal, _royal_ \- it had to be prince Minho. The prince happened to look over in Chan's direction and they locked eyes for a moment. Minho's eyes widened slightly, and his cheeks turned pink as he hastily looked away again. Chan saw him whisper something to one of his attendants, fleetingly glancing at Chan once more as he did so. Worried he might be in trouble, Chan turned around and hurried back home.

A few days later, two royal guards appeared at the Bang household with a message.

Apparently, the prince saw Chan and fell for him instantly, and offered Chan a position in the court as his wonchung and personal servant. Chan couldn't believe his ears. The prince liked him? _Him_??? Someone so beautiful wanted to give Chan his attention and make him his lover?

Of course, Chan accepted; on the promise that his family would be well cared for. He packed his things and moved into the palace that same day, meeting the prince formally and establishing their relationship. 

Chan fell fast, and Chan fell _hard._ Not only was Minho beautiful; but he was kind, intelligent, witty, funny, gentle, and sweet. And Chan found him _so_ endearing. Minho certainly felt the same, and he wasted no effort in gushing his affections every chance he could. They spent nearly every moment together, and Chan adored it. He _adored_ the prince. They took long walks through the palace, they relaxed in the gardens and listened to the birds sing, they slept next to each other every night and held each other close, sharing sweet kisses and caresses. Chan's favorite moments were when they first woke up, and he could see the early sun kiss the gentle skin of his lover's face. He looked so soft and delicate, and Chan wanted to hold him close forever. 

On one particular evening, they were having dinner in the palace's great hall. Chan always sat next to Minho at this time, pouring wine for him and keeping him company- such was his role, one of many. He opened a fresh bottle of plum wine, and refilled Minho's empty cup. Minho smiled at him in gratitude, and took a long drink, downing all of it at once.

And then Minho started to cough. And choke. 

He began clutching at his throat as he kept choking, struggling to take in a breath. And then he fell onto the floor, his body starting to convulse.

Chan stood there- petrified with fear- watching as his beloved prince continued to jerk about on the floor, before falling still and not moving. Not breathing.

When Chan realized that Minho was dead, he let out a horrified scream and rushed to his body, holding him close. How could this have happened? Was it the food? Was it the wine? This had to just be a bad dream, right? A bad dream, and he would wake up soon with Minho smiling at him under the morning sunlight.

The wine had been laced with a lethal poison. And since Chan was the one who poured it, he was blamed, charged with high treason and murder.

But Chan would never _ever_ even _think_ about killing the prince. He _loved_ him, _cherished_ him with his entire being. 

Before Chan could even process his grief, he was sentenced to death for his crimes. He had nothing to prove his innocence, and so his fate was sealed.

Chan accepted it without a fight. As he kneeled on the ground, head hung low, he couldn't help but think that this was a relief.

If he had to live without the prince, it would be a life that was bleak and gray and loveless. Death was kinder.

He heard the swing of a sword and then there was nothing but darkness.

  
  


~

  
  


Becoming a Hwarang soldier was a great honor. Chan couldn't be more proud to fight for his country. He trained hard, and quickly rose up the ranks. He was a strong and brave fighter, and led many successful battles.

A new group of recruits arrived a few years later, and Chan was put in charge of showing them around and getting them settled in their new lives. One of the fresh faces caught his eye, a young man named Lee Minho.

Chan eventually approached Minho, curious to know more about him.

He learned that Minho was supposed to join when Chan joined, but he fell ill and had to stay behind and recover. He wanted to join to make his parents proud, as their only child. Minho was someone who preferred the arts to the art of war, but he wanted to work hard and prove himself worthy.

Chan admired his motivation, and respected him as a man.

They spent more time together, Chan taking a mentoring position of sorts with Minho. He helped him with his sword skills and archery, and the two became very close friends.

And then Chan realized he wanted more, along their journey of friendship he had fallen completely in love.

On one evening, as they were relaxing after a long day of training and enjoying the sunset, Chan couldn't help but steal glances at the other man. He looked so beautiful, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

Chan wanted to kiss him. So he did.

Minho kissed back, a kiss full of passion and want, and when they broke away Chan shared his feelings. They became a romantic pair that night, and spent that night together consummating that romance.

They became even closer; spending every moment together. They fought together, they sparred together, they rode horses together, they ate together. Their love grew stronger and stronger and Chan had never felt this way towards anyone before. Minho was... _everything_ to him. He loved him dearly, loved him with his entire being.

Chan's favorite moments were when they would brush each other's hair, although it might actually have been more of _Minho's_ favorite moments, with how often the other man loved to twist Chan's long waves around his fingers. He would often wake up to see Minho playing with his hair, smiling down at him fondly. Natural curls were an unusual trait, and Chan wasn't really a fan of how odd his hair was but Minho _loved_ it. 

"You're only going to make it worse!" Chan would complain.

But Minho always just laughed. "Good, I love it when it's extra curly. It's so pretty. You're so pretty, my love."

These moments felt so intimate; as if it were only them. No one else existed, no one else mattered. Just Minho and Chan, in their own private little world, adoring each other and loving each other.

A conflict arose on one of the borders of Silla, and they needed a small envoy to take care of it. Minho volunteered to go, wanting to prove himself- there had been whispers circling about, criticizing Minho and saying he spent too much time singing and daydreaming, and not enough time training. This was false, Minho worked very hard and was a skilled fighter.

Chan volunteered to go too, not wanting to leave Minho to fight alone, but he was held back- he needed to train the newest group of soldiers that were to arrive in a week. 

Chan accepted this, he didn't really have a choice _but_ to accept it. Orders were orders.

The night before the envoy left, Chan gave Minho his sword. 

"For luck," he said, "it'll be like I'm right there, fighting with you."

"I'll keep it close," Minho said, taking the sword and leaning forward to give Chan a kiss.

"Be careful," Chan added, "don't be reckless. And please, _promise_ that you'll come back alive."

"I promise, of course I promise."

The rest of that night was filled with shared passion, filled with whispered words of sweetness and devotion.

And the next morning, Chan almost had to be physically pulled away from his lover, as he kept wanting to give him "one more kiss goodbye".

A week and a half later, Chan heard that the conflict escalated and they were overpowered. Only three soldiers survived, out of the group of ten.

Those three soldiers arrived a few days later. Minho was not one of them.

When Chan asked what happened to him, he was handed back his sword, and was given Minho's last words- "I'm sorry, I couldn't keep my promise. I love you."

Chan fell to his knees on the spot, body shaking with sobs as he clutched the sword tightly. He cried out in anguish, in disbelief, in sorrow. He could feel his heart shatter and he didn't know how he could ever recover from this raw and overwhelming _pain_. How was he supposed to live on, without the one he loved by his side? He felt so empty. 

That same night, Chan took his sword and plunged it into his heart. A life without Minho just wasn't a life worth living. There was no point, he knew nothing could ever make him happy again.

It didn't take long for Chan to bleed out, feeling the world slip away as his vision faded to black. 

He'd see Minho again soon.

  
  


~

  
  


Minho had been Chan's closest friend since they were children. He was the one Chan could trust his life with, his most cherished companion. 

But as they got older, Chan noticed that their relationship seemed to shift. They got closer and closer, but almost... _too_ close.

Of course, it was honorable for two men to have a close and emotionally intimate relationship. Two equals side by side, society embraced it.

But anything more than that, anything physical, _that_ was taboo. 

What Chan and Minho had, it felt like they were toeing the line, dangerously close to crossing it.

And it was Chan's fault- his mind kept wondering. Wondering if Minho's lips felt as plush as they looked. If the rest of his skin was as soft as his hands. If he would blush when Chan held him close. If he would hold Chan close as well. These thoughts got worse and worse, they nearly consumed him.

As they went from teenagers to adults Chan realized that they had too many moments that could lead to something more, something dangerous, and they were both just barely keeping themselves at bay. The tension was getting so thick you could cut it with a blade.

One day Chan decided he didn't want to hold back anymore. And he kissed Minho. And Minho kissed back.

Things got more and more heated, and more and more physical. They made love with each other.

It was wrong- It _should_ have felt wrong. Chan knew it was wrong.

But it felt so natural, it felt incredibly _right_ . And Chan found he no longer cared what society said. Not when the sight of Minho's beneath him was something he could never forget. Minho's lips were _so_ plush, his skin was _so_ soft, and he turned _so_ red as Chan moved in him and kissed him tenderly. His love for Minho was _real_ , and he couldn't suppress it anymore, no matter how much he tried. 

Minho confessed that he felt the same, he'd felt the same for _years_ , but never acted on it because he was afraid that Chan would push him away. Chan kissed him, and promised that even if he hadn't felt the same, he would never do that to his closest and most cherished friend.

They formed a relationship in secret, hiding their affections behind closed doors and out of sight. It was hard, but it was worth it. Chan would rather hide his love for Minho than not be able to love Minho at all. This kept up for many years, and after a while they started to get less careful.

People started to suspect them, suspect that they were more than "just really good friends".

They must have been followed one night, as they crept away to a secluded part of a forest, sharing passionate kisses and touches behind the trees. 

They were caught, right in the act. Nothing could explain away their red faces and messed up clothing. 

Chan tightly grabbed Minho's hand and they ran for it, chased by the one who caught them, soon chased by a whole mob. But they couldn't run forever, and soon the mob caught up to them and dragged them to the streets, before starting to attack them.

They were struck with wooden rods, hit with rocks and bricks, knocked to the ground and beaten without mercy. 

After all, their love was forbidden, it was wrong, it was _unnatural_.

Chan looked over at Minho's face, and his heart hurt when he saw how _terrified_ his best friend and lover was. Minho reached out towards Chan, Chan saw his mouth form the words "I love you". 

And then Chan was struck on the head and it all went black.

  
  


~

  
  


Chan thought the conflict would be over after the second World War ended, that there would finally be peace. But then the newly formed North Korea started to invade. 

Chan, who was freshly out of college, was drafted to serve in the defending army. 

He wasn't looking forward to it. But he had no choice, so off he went to get trained.

He ended up on the front lines, in one of the larger battalions that was trying to push back the invading forces. He got along with the other soldiers alright, but wasn't very close with them. He was kind of lonely. 

There was one of his fellow soldiers, a guy named Minho, who was very bright and chatty, going from person to person and trying to make small talk. When he started talking to Chan, they just seemed to click. He quickly found out that they shared many things in common- from a love of music, to a love of animals, to a love of food. They became very close friends, and Chan couldn't be more thankful to have Minho there. Especially on the cold and lonely nights where he missed and worried about his family. 

The fighting continued, and they were pushed back, further and further south, all the way down to Busan. Chan worried that they wouldn't win, and fear clawed at him over what might happen to his family if the communist controlled North took over. 

There were a lot of nights spent in the trenches. It was cold, and wet, and miserable. Minho's company was Chan's only solace, as he tried his best to sleep a good amount each night, and not get trench foot.

"Hyung, I need to tell you something," Minho said one day, as they were waiting for sunrise, both unable to sleep.

"What is it?" Chan asked.

"I….um...I...this is hard to say."

"That's okay, take your time."

"I……" Minho turned to look Chan right in the eyes, "I have feelings for you."

"What?" 

"I like you. A lot. Romantically."

"O-oh. How….how? Um, how did you know?"

Minho sighed, looking back up at the sky.

"I'm not sure. I just looked at you, and it hit me. I like you. And….I worry that I won't survive this, but I didn't want to die without telling you how I feel. So...here we are."

"Here we are. I, uh…"

"It's okay. I know you don't feel the same."

"Well, I was gonna say that I'm flattered!"

Minho blinked at him.

"Really? You don't think it's weird? That I like guys?" he asked.

"I mean, it's unexpected, but not like...a bad thing. Men are cool. They've got nice faces, and bodies, and voices, and- oh god, do _I_ like men?"

Chan's quickly spiraling thoughts were interrupted by Minho laughing.

"Thank you," he said, still giggling, "thank you for not making this weird between us. You're a really great friend, Chan-hyung."

Chan smiled at Minho, and gave him a warm hug.

"Yeah, of course," he answered, "I'll always be your friend."

With this new revelation, Chan had a lot of thinking to do. Which was a little difficult, since they were in the midst of a war. 

He did, however, come to a swift conclusion that yeah, he liked guys. There was no time to panic about it, it was just fact. He might die at any moment, and he would also suck a dick. Whatever.

Chan's view of Minho also shifted, knowing how the other man felt about him. Not in a bad way! He just saw him in a new light; noticed more about him. Such as, when Chan would talk, Minho always had this soft little smile on his face as he listened. And it was really cute. _Really_ cute. How did Chan not notice how cute Minho was? He knew Minho was handsome, sure, but that was just objective fact. Or- was it? Had Chan been pining this entire time and not even noticed? He had a lot more thinking to do.

So, a couple weeks after he realized he liked men, Chan realized he liked Minho back. And after he realized this, he vowed that he was going to tell Minho how he felt. But it would have to be after the fighting stopped, they had to focus on the invasion first. The UN had sent assistance, and they were finally able to push back from Busan and were aiming to re-take Seoul. They just had to keep pushing the enemy back across the border, and then Chan could go home. He couldn't wait to see his family again. He would ask Minho out for dinner. Try and kindle something, get a spark going. Yes, things were looking up.

The next battle was brutal. Many of Chan's comrades went down that day, and with the rest of Chan's division getting surrounded, Chan quickly took off and retreated back to the trenches. He looked frantically around for Minho, and saw him trying to give another soldier CPR. That soldier was already glassy-eyed, there was no point and Minho was only putting himself in danger. He rushed over to Minho, grabbed his arm, and tugged him along towards the trench. Chan could feel the adrenaline roaring through his veins as they quite literally ran for their lives. They were getting so close, only about twenty more meters-

A sharp pain tore through Chan's back, and he collapsed forward with a cry of pain. He'd been shot. He tried to get up but his legs just weren't cooperating. 

Then he heard Minho calling out his name, and a pair of arms scooped him up, as Minho kept running while carrying Chan bridal style. 

Minho barely made it another five meters before he was struck down, dropping Chan as he fell forward, Chan rolling across the ground. 

Was this it? Was this the end? Was this where he died? Without even telling Minho how he felt…

No. No he could still tell him. It wasn't too late. Even if it was with his dying breath, Chan was going to tell Minho that he liked him. No, loved him. Chan loved him, loved the man that made the cold nights on the war front a little warmer, a little brighter.

Chan dragged himself on the ground, over to where Minho was laying, the only sign that the other was alive being the rapid rise and fall of his chest. 

When Chan got to him, he wasted no time. 

"I love you," he said, and Minho gaped at him.

"W-what?"

"I love you Minho. It took a while for me to realize, but I do. I was going to tell you after the fighting stopped, but- I don't think I'm going to make it."

Minho began to cry, tears falling down the side of his face.

"I love you too," he said, "I love you so much. I'm sorry we won't be able to build a life together."

"I'm sorry too," Chan replied, his own eyes filling with tears.

He leaned down to kiss Minho, and it was soft and warm and incredibly bittersweet.

This was the end; Chan knew it, he knew that Minho knew it. Medical attention was too far away, they didn't have the strength to move to safety, by the time anyone came back for them it would be too late.

Chan rolled over onto his back, and reached out to grab hold of Minho's hand. 

"I'm glad I get to die with you. I'm glad I got to fight with you," he said, "I'm glad I got to meet you."

"Maybe...maybe we'll meet again, in another life. And we can be friends again. Maybe more," Minho replied.

"I hope so. I really hope so."

Squeezing Minho's hand tightly, Chan closed his eyes, and waited for death to take him.

  
  


~

Trainee life wasn't easy, and after _seven_ years Chan was over the moon that he could finally debut. He had his team together, hand-picked himself, and that was all that he needed!

However, the team didn't feel totally perfect. Not yet. Chan wasn't sure what was still missing, but it was _something_ . Maybe some _one_.

Chan walked through the halls of the JYP Entertainment building, heading over to the recording room. There were new trainees there today that he hadn't met yet, and he was excited to see the fresh faces!

Humming aloud to himself, he opened the door and entered the room. There was another person there, a guy, who was warming up. He must have been new, since Chan had never seen him before. His face looked sharp and serious, as well as handsome and healthy. Chan felt kind of awkward as he said, "oh, uh, hello."

The other man looked over at him. And then smiled brightly and replied, "hello!!"

Oh. That took Chan by surprise. He wasn't expecting him to look so….cute. He was _really_ cute!

"I'm Bang Chan, I'm another trainee. It's nice to meet you!" 

"Lee Minho, I just joined! It's nice to meet you too!"

There was something about this man- Minho. Chan could already sense that he was something….special. Someone that would be the _perfect_ final addition to his team.

And there was something about that smile- why did it seem so familiar? As Chan looked at Minho, he was getting a _weird_ sense of deja vu. 

He knew he had never met Minho before.

So why did it feel like he'd already known him for years?

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me too much <3 next fic is going to be very very happy I promise <3  
> Follow me on [twitter~ ](https://twitter.com/goldenjung9497)


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